Holding Onto Hope
by LauraPotter95
Summary: Set after 5th year. Harry's finding it hard to cope and his luck seems to be going from bad to worse as he is captured by Voldemort and tortured for information. Will Harry break? Or can someone show him how to live again?
1. Escaping the memory

CHAPTER 1 - ESCAPING THE MEMORY

Harry lay on his hard mattress staring at the ceiling, trying not to think too much about anything in particular, especially not what had happened in the past few days.

His eyes wandered slowly over to Hedwig's empty cage; she was out hunting again, but Harry hoped she would return before nightfall. He could do with some company.

The first day back at the Dursleys had been uneventful. Harry's trunk lay on the floor, having been dumped as soon as he got up to his room. He had been lying on his bed for a few hours now, and his relatives hadn't disturbed him.

'Huh, some relatives' Harry thought to himself, 'They don't care about me at all, not like...'

He stopped abruptly as his mind brushed against the one topic he had been trying to avoid all day.

Harry sat up and shook his head slightly, trying to get rid of the painful memories that surfaced every time he now thought of his godfather.

_"It's no use Harry...he's gone."_

Lupin's words still echoed in his head, even though it had only been two days since...it...had happened. Everything had gone so slowly for Harry since then. It was almost like a dream...in fact he wished it had been a dream.

After Harry had smashed a great deal of Dumbledore's possessions and stormed out of his office, he had gone straight to the Room of Requirement, where he stayed until he had heard Hermione, Ron and Ginny outside the room looking for him.

After a few minutes of Hermione and Ron arguing, the three had left, making Harry feel a little guilty for not talking to them. Soon after, he had fallen asleep and hadn't woken up until morning, by which time Dumbledore had arranged for him to take a portkey to the Dursleys a few days before the end of term.

In a way, Harry was glad that he hadn't had to face the long journey home on the Hogwarts Express. He had simply taken hold of a small yellow paperweight and avoided the worried glances and muffled whispers that always surrounded him.

In truth, Harry hadn't thought about the Prophecy that much. He had always known he would be involved in Voldemort's downfall one way or another. But for now, he had thrown it to the back of his mind, preferring to deal with it later. He had no idea when 'later' would be.

But now he was in Little Whinging with absolutely nothing to do for...he didn't know how long he would be stuck there. And the Dursleys weren't exactly ecstatic when he had turned up at Number 4, Privet Drive earlier than they had expected.

Night was falling fast and Hedwig still hadn't come back from hunting. Harry sighed and lay back down on his bed, still in the clothes he had arrived in, not bothering to change.

'I may as well try to get some rest' thought Harry, and he drifted off to sleep.

_Harry was running. Faster than he'd ever run in his life. Where was he going? There was just a seemingly endless tunnel stretched out ahead of him. He stopped abruptly, hearing a noise behind him._

_Harry turned around and saw, standing in front of him, Sirius Black. Harry's face lit up with joy._

_"Sirius!" he cried, stepping towards him, but Sirius pulled out his wand and Harry was thrown back against a wall that had appeared out of nowhere. Harry cried out in physical and emotional pain as he hit the wall, staring at his godfather in disbelief._

_"Sirius?" he whispered._

_"You killed me Harry."_

_Harry shook his head as Sirius advanced upon him, his wand pointing at Harry's chest._

_"It was your fault I died. It was all your fault. I will have my revenge..."_

_Sirius started to laugh and suddenly, Lord Voldemort was standing in front of Harry, still laughing._

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

_Green light exploded in Harry's vision, and he cried out again, putting his hands up in front of his face._

_Memories suddenly clouded his vision; Sirius laughing whilst duelling Bellatrix, getting hit with a jet of red light, falling through the veil with a surprised expression etched onto his face..._

_Harry felt a pressure squeeze down on him. He couldn't breathe. He tried to cry out again, tears streaming down his face. The pressure increased._

_"Boy!"_

Harry jerked his eyes open. Vernon Dursley stood directly above him looking like he was going to burst with rage, with one of his fat hands clamped down on Harry's throat.

Harry struggled to get his uncle's hand off from around his neck, but Vernon was stronger.

"Boy!" he whispered menacingly, "What the devil do you think you're doing!? Waking up the whole house and half the neighbourhood...if I hear so much as a sound from this room again, you'll wish you'd never been born!"

Harry nodded, still struggling to get any air to his lungs. Uncle Vernon released his hand and waddled out of the room, locking the door behind him. Harry sat up, holding his throat and taking deep gulps of air.

He was covered in sweat and tears still dripped down onto the bedsheets. He grabbed a dirty shirt lying on the floor and wiped his face with it, trying to get his emotions under control and massaging his bruised neck.

Harry sat shakily on the edge of his bed, still clutching the shirt in one hand. He looked over to Hedwig's cage. Still empty. Wondering what could be taking her so long, Harry got up and sat in the hard wooden chair in front of his desk, dropping the t-shirt back on the floor.

Several pieces of parchment lay on his desk; Harry had taken them out of his trunk when he had arrived at the Dursleys. Most of it was homework. Harry had spent a few hours attempting to answer the Charms homework Professor Flitwick had assigned.

Anything to take his mind off Sirius.

Harry turned over the parchment and continued to answer the question; _"When casting a 'Wingardium Leviosa' levitating charm, why are the wand movements significant in helping to achieve the desired outcome of the spell?" _

For the remainder of the night, Harry tried to finish the 2-foot-long essay, but found his mind was slow due to lack of sleep. Eventually, as the sun rose at about 6am, he gave up and sat back in his chair to look out the window.

The sky was a light blue, streaked with deep autumnal colours; red, yellow and orange all emanated from the sun as it slowly rose up to meet the new day. A small breeze ran through the neat rows of trees that lined Privet Drive, and the birdsong was sharp but quiet as the inhabitants of the street slept soundly in their beds, oblivious to the beauty of the dawn.

Harry sighed and looked down at the parchment.

'No way am I going to finish that today' he thought. Harry shuffled all of his homework together and placed it in his open trunk by the door, carefully closing it to avoid looking at the mess inside.

At 8 o' clock, Harry went downstairs to make the Dursley's breakfast, ignoring the glare that Uncle Vernon gave him. After eating his own breakfast (one piece of plain toast and a glass of water), Harry returned to his room, where he saw Hedwig perched outside his window.

He couldn't help but grin as he opened it for her, and she gracefully flew into his room and perched on top of the wardrobe briefly, before gliding down to stand on the bed.

Harry went over to her and noticed two letters attached to her left leg.

"Not hunting then were you girl?"

Hedwig gave a small hoot and nipped Harry's finger affectionately.

After Harry had untied the letters, Hedwig flew to her cage and pecked at the owl treats on the bottom. Harry held the letters in his hands uncertainly.

He recognised one of them as Hermione's neat handwriting, and another with Ron's untidy scrawl. Harry took and deep breath and, shrugging to himself, opened Ron's letter and started to read;

_Hey Harry,_

_Hedwig came to The Burrow last night, so we thought we'd write to you to see how you were doing._

_The girls went mental when they couldn't find you after we got back. Dumbledore told us the next morning that you'd gone to the Dursleys early. Oh, and Hermione's got some homework for you, so don't remind her about it!_

_Sorry mate, but we don't know how long it will be until you can come to The Burrow. We haven't had a chance to ask Dumbledore, but we're all hoping you won't be stuck with the muggles for too long._

_If you've opened my letter first, be prepared for a long one from Hermione! Anyway, I hope you write back soon._

_Ron_

Harry felt another twinge of guilt at not saying goodbye to his friends before he left. He was grateful to Ron for not mentioning what had happened at the Ministry, though Hermione would probably bring it up in her 'long letter'.

Harry sighed again.

'I may as well get it over with.'

He opened the second letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope you are coping alright at your relatives' house. We all spent ages looking for you after we got back from the Ministry of Magic! Ginny said you were probably in the Room of Requirement, but it wouldn't open for us, so we gave up looking._

_Dumbledore told us at breakfast the next morning that you'd gone early. I've got the Muggle Studies homework we missed a few days ago, so I hope I will remember to give it to you when you come to The Burrow._

_The train journey was pretty boring to be honest. Ginny and Ron played chess most of the time and I read the last few chapters of 'Hogwarts; A History' (again!)._

_I really hope that you can come to The Burrow soon. I'm staying here all summer, as my parents are in Turkey for a few weeks. Nothing much is happening, except Mrs Weasley keeps giving us chores, which isn't too bad actually, as there's not much else to do...but Ron is driving me crazy!_

_The only thing he can talk about is Quidditch or asking if I want to play chess, and I'm trying to make him do his homework and start studying, but he just won't listen! I bet he leaves it until the last day of the holidays, as usual (I hope you've at least started some of your summer work). Never mind, he's just got nothing to do because you're not here._

_There was an Order meeting last night, but (what a surprise) none of us were allowed to attend, and as Fred and George have sold out of Extendable Ears, as well as Mrs Weasley confiscating the ones she had found hidden around the house, there weren't any left to eavesdrop with._

_Harry, we're all really sorry about Sirius. I know you must be feeling incredibly sad and upset about what happened. Please don't blame yourself though; it wasn't your fault. I'm sure Sirius wouldn't have wanted you to feel guilty about it. You know you can talk to me about it anytime you want._

_Anyway, we can't wait to see you. We didn't get a chance to ask Dumbledore how you were feeling, so I really hope you write back soon._

_Love Hermione_

Harry slowly put the letter down, feeling anger building inside him.

'She has no idea...how would she know what Sirius would want?'

Harry stood up abruptly and started pacing across the small room, his anger slowly dissipating. He sat down on the bed again and sighed.

'Hermione was only trying to make me feel better' he thought.

Harry moved across the room and sat down at the old wobbly desk, looking at the countless pieces of parchment littering the surface. He finally managed to find a blank piece after a few minutes of searching. Harry picked up a spare quill lying on his desk and wrote;

_To Ron and Hermione,_

Harry paused, unsure of what to say. He continued after a few moments thought.

_To Ron and Hermione,_

_I'm fine. I haven't been doing much and the Dursleys are ignoring me which is good._

_Sorry about leaving so quickly, Dumbledore arranged a portkey for me. Hopefully, I won't be here for much longer._

_Hope to see you guys soon._

_Harry_

Hedwig flew over to him as he finished writing, and Harry tied the letter to her leg and watched her fly out the window over the neat rows of houses in the direction of The Burrow.

It was now only 9 o' clock, and Harry had the whole day to kill.


	2. A Bad Night

CHAPTER 2 - A BAD NIGHT

Four hours later, Harry sat back in his chair and surveyed the pages of parchment he had filled with untidy handwriting. His stomach grumbled loudly, and he quickly went downstairs and made himself a rather bland ham sandwich, dashing back to his room before Aunt Petunia saw him.

Harry wolfed down his measley lunch and put his homework in his Hogwarts trunk. He lay down on his bed and closed his eyes...

"BOY! GET YOUR WORTHLESS BACKSIDE DOWNSTAIRS FOR DINNER NOW OR YOU WON'T BE GETTING ANY FOOD FOR THE NEXT WEEK!"

Harry nearly fell off the bed as Uncle Vernon's voice pounded in his ears, and he scrambled downstairs into the kitchen, meeting Vernon's purple face and hard eyes for only a few seconds, before grabbing a fork and his plate and escaping back to his room, murmering a quiet 'thanks' to his Aunt.

Harry put the small meal on his desk and sat down, looking at it. He poked the chicken and potatoes around the plate, not really bothered by his loss of appetite. He hadn't eaten much since he got here. The corners of Harry's mouth turned upwards slightly at the thought of what Mrs Weasley would say if she knew he wasn't eating...but then his thoughts again turned back to Sirius, and the small smile faded quickly.

The Dursley's didn't even blink when Harry entered the kitchen and dumped his plate in the sink, before quietly going upstairs. There was a slight pause in the dining room, then the conversation resumed.

Harry shut the door and simply stood, looking at his open Hogwarts trunk that revealed a mess of robes, parchment and other various possessions. He _really_ hated the Dursley's. Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, Harry wished that his parents were still alive, that Sirius was still alive...somebody, anybody!

He sighed and looked at the clock; _8:53pm_

Harry felt so tired; he lay down on his bed, just for a moment, and closed his eyes...

_The room was dark and cold, although it looked more like a dungeon than a normal room. Harry could just make out a figure hunched over a few metres away. He slowly walked over, curious to see who was in front of him._

_A shaggy mane of black hair came into view first, and Harry felt his stomach drop. The once handsome features of his godfather could be seen as he lifted his head to look into the darkness._

_A cold voice hissed from the shadows, "Crucio."_

_Harry watched in horror as Sirius grimaced in pain, shaking violently from the curse. Voldemort stepped into his view and dropped his wand to the floor, Sirius almost sagging with relief as the pain subsided._

_Harry looked up at Voldemort with pure hatred in his eyes. Voldemort started to laugh as Harry knelt beside Sirius and placed a hand on his shaking shoulder._

_"Sirius?"_

_His godfather didn't seem to feel or hear Harry, and Voldemort continued to laugh._

_"Sirius!" Harry cried in desperation._

_Voldemort stopped laughing abruptly and raised his wand._

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

_The green beam of light hit Sirius in the stomach, and he doubled over gasping. Harry let out a roar of frustration and grief, and he turned Sirius over onto his back._

_His godfather's eyes turned towards him; they had lost their warmth and they stared at him accusingly._

_"Where were you Harry?"_

_Harry shook his head slowly._

_"I need you Sirius, please don't go."_

_Another voice sounded from behind Harry, a voice that he recognised..._

_"Look at him. My own son, begging. How pathetic..."_

_Harry turned his head and he felt his eyes widen in astonishment._

_"Dad?"_

_James Potter chuckled darkly and drew his wand._

_"Dad?" he mimicked in a high-pitched voice. "How dare you" he whispered, "How dare you call me your father after you killed my best friend! You murderer!"_

_James pointed his wand at Harry and a jet of green light sped towards him._

_The last thing Harry heard was his godfather shouting, "Nice one James!"_

_"No!" Harry shouted, but immediately felt something hit his head._

Harry opened his eyes.

Vernon Dursley's face was an inch from his, looking extremely purple and with bloodshot eyes staring angrily at him.

"What did I tell you boy?" he whispered menacingly, "You choose to disobey me? Get up."

Harry tried to sink further away from his uncle, but Vernon grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled him out of bed, leaving Harry gasping on the floor, his scalp burning. Harry looked up at his fuming uncle and realised he was holding a belt in his right hand.

Before he could tear his eyes away from the belt, Vernon had seized the back of his shirt and slammed Harry face first against the wall. Harry's head was smashed against the wall twice more; his head was throbbing and his glasses had fallen onto the floor.

Before Harry even had time to think, he felt the leather crack across the middle of his back, and he forced himself not to whimper. Harry had learned when he was nine not to make a sound when he was being beaten, or it would be a lot worse for him.

Less than a second later, Harry felt the belt his hit back again, but he could do nothing but scrunch his eyes shut and clench his teeth against the pain.

Vernon continued to violently whip the boy; Harry no longer had the strength to struggle or even move away from the wall he was pressed against. The beating carried on and Harry lost count of the number of times his Uncle thrashed him.

After a few minutes, the strikes stopped. Harry barely heard his Uncle walk out of the room and bolt the door shut; he collapsed on the floor, shaking from the agony radiating from his back.

Harry painstakingly crawled to the edge of his bed, but he didn't have the energy to pull himself onto the sheets, so he simply lay on the floor with his knees pulled to his chest.

He did not sleep for the remainder of the night.

The next morning dawned crisp and fresh as the sun gradually peeked above the horizon. Harry looked up at the clock on his bedside table.

_6:28am_

He groaned and slowly pulled himself upright. His nose wrinkled as he looked down at the droplets of dried blood on the floorboards. After a few minutes of painful stumbling, Harry managed to reach the bedroom door.

To his surprise it was unlocked, so he limped downstairs as fast as he could and grabbed a few sheets of kitchen towel, before practically crawling up the stairs back to his room.

Harry half-sat, half-fell next to the dirty floorboards, and scrubbed away the blood before tossing the grimy kitchen towel in the waste paper basket next to his bed. Aunt Petunia couldn't care less about the mess in his room, but if she saw _blood_ on the floorboards, Harry would be for it.

After half and hour of sitting on the floor doing nothing in particular, Harry staggered downstairs where he started making breakfast for the Dursleys. He heard Uncle Vernon stomp down the stairs; he completely ignored Harry as he entered the kitchen and stuffed his large behind into one of the dining room chairs.

Barely a minute had passed before Vernon barked, "Where's that bacon boy?"

Harry quickly put several rashers of cooked bacon onto his Uncle's plate before starting on the fried eggs. Twenty minutes later, Vernon, Petunia and Dudley had scoffed 15 rashers of bacon, 4 pieces of toast, 7 fried eggs and 2 tins of baked beans between them all; Harry was given a plain slice of toast and half a glass of orange juice.

Nothing was said about the night before.

Harry quickly wolfed down his measly breakfast and tried to escape to his room, but Aunt Petunia spotted him as she looked up from her plate.

"There's a list of chores by the front door. I want them done by dinner time."

Harry silently groaned to himself and trudged to the front door, where a long list waited for him.

_...mow the front lawn_

_mow the back lawn_

_prune the flowerbeds_

_clean the front windows_

_paint the shed_

_dust the house_

_hoover the lounge_

_do the laundry..._

Harry's eyes wandered down the ever increasing list. He started again from the top and counted 17 chores.

'Be done by dinner time?' thought Harry incredulously.

He sighed and picked up the list, trudging outside to get the lawnmower.

The next two days passed quickly for Harry; he got up at 6:30am, made breakfast, then started on his new list of chores for the day. After a _very_ light lunch, Harry continued with his chores, ate his small dinner and collapsed on his bed, sleeping soundly until the next morning.

Thankfully, Aunt Petunia seemed to have exhausted the number of chores she had thought of throughout the week, and as the weekend arrived, Harry was able to spend the whole Saturday alone in his room, much to his relief.

The day was spent doing summer homework; Harry knew all too well how stressful it was trying to get it all done in the last week of the holidays. At the end of the day, Harry was left with an aching hand, as well as an aching head.

He leant back in his chair, sighing with relief as he finished the last line of his Transfiguration essay.

A sharp tapping at his window broke Harry from his contented thoughts, and he looked up to see Hedwig perched outside. He slowly moved to let her in, and she dropped a letter on his bed. Harry recognised the loopy handwriting that belonged to Dumbledore on the front of the envelope, and he tentatively sat on the edge of his bed and opened it.

_Harry,_

_I will collect you from Privet Drive and take you to The Burrow tomorrow. I believe it will be safer for you there. We will take a portkey at 8pm._

_Hope you are well._

_Professor Albus Dumbledore_

Harry read and re-read the parchment twice before a small smile crept across his face. It quickly vanished however, when he realised that the headmaster was coming to Privet Drive. A feeling of dread settled in his stomach as he thought about their last meeting.

'I'll have to apologise about breaking most of his instrument things...'

He sighed and dropped the letter on the floor, apprehensive about seeing Dumbledore, but glad that he was finally getting out of Privet Drive.

After another sleepless night, Harry was listening intently for his cue to go downstairs. He heard the front door slam.

'Good,' he thought, 'Uncle Vernon has gone to work.'

He made his way downstairs and tentatively entered the living room. He almost sighed in relief as he saw Aunt Petunia reading the newspaper. He cleared his throat.

"Umm, just...just thought I'd let you know that Professor Dumbledore, my headteacher...he's coming here to pick me up tomorrow..." Harry said hesitantly as his Aunt looked up.

She looked at him for a second, before bowing her head faintly and turning back to her newspaper. Harry smiled slightly, taking this reaction as a 'yes', and he practically ran upstairs to pack before she could change her mind.


End file.
